


Arcades Are For Kids

by orphan_account



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Birth, M/M, Mpreg, labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 20:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: So I wrote this a while back and didn't upload itenjoy my crappy rushed work :)





	Arcades Are For Kids

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hetalianGemini15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetalianGemini15/gifts).
  * Inspired by [What the Hell](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988837) by [hetalianGemini15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hetalianGemini15/pseuds/hetalianGemini15). 

“Iceberg! Dead ahead!”

“We...Are in a plane.”

“Oh yeah........"CLOUDBERG!"

Patryck had hardly any time to register the outburst before the plane collided with the frozen obstruction, his body lurching forward as the plane exploded into pieces.

He fumbled with the strings on his odd backpack (Which was conveniently a parachute and gun holder, weird) before tugging the release strings, the large cloth dispersing and slowing his fall.

"Hey honey, are you alright?" He heard a familiar voice say. Turning his head he gasped.

"Paul!" Tears started to pool in his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok! Don’t cry!” Paul assured, Patryck blushed and glared at his boyfriend.

“I’m only crying because my eyes are dry!” Paul rolled his blue eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

When Patryck's feet hit the ground, he cringed as the strange sensation went up his legs. Clipping off his parachute, he sat down on the snow covered ground, soon joined by the Dutchman.

"Tord is gonna kill me! I can't believe I crashed the plane!" Patryck wailed, burying his face in his red turtleneck. Paul rubbed his back.

“There, there...He won’t hurt you as long as you’re pregnant.” The smoker assured, wrapping an arm around his smaller boyfriend. Patryck gasped and felt his stomach.

“Oh God, the babies! Are they ok?!” Patryck started to panic, starting to cry for real this time. The pilot pushed gently on his bump, anxiously waiting for a response.

Thankfully, he got two strong kicks back, relief instantly pooling throughout his body. If he had lost the babies, he wouldn't have known what he’d done. He felt pressure in his lower back, but brushed it off as soreness from the crash.

“Well, well, well...Look what we have here.” Red Leader’s voice was loud and disappointed sounding, he was clearly next to Patryck.

Patryck looked at his boots, shame coursing through his veins. “I’m sorry sir, I-”

“It was all my fault sir, I distracted him and didn’t warn him in time.” Paul piped up, though was surprised when Tord waved him off and grabbed the chubby pilot’s hand.

“Come on, Duluvit, get up. I won’t have you moping around.” Tord softly whispered, pulling him up. Patryck was still fascinated by his snow covered boots, Tord tsking quietly.

“I’m not mad at you Patryck. If I was, you would have been yelled at by now, with child or not,” The Norski said, patting his back. “Come on, we have a much bigger problem now.”

“What proble-...Oh.” Paul trailed off, noticing the groaning, green-skinned, bloody people limping around.

“Well, gentlemen, feel like shooting today?” Tord asked, instantly getting nods of approval. Tord grinned wildly, grabbing his firearm and cocking it proudly.

“Well, let’s go!” The two pilots followed after their leader, Patryck holding Paul’s hand gently. The three set off into the city, ready to have a good time.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patryck held back another groan, placing a hand on his back. Out of all times to have contractions, this wasn’t the ideal place. He could just hope it was Braxton Hicks contractions and not his twins coming early. Well, he was pretty sure it was just two. He could swear sometimes he could feel an extra leg or arm moving around, but he was sure it was just a weird position one of the babies was in. Nevertheless, he had to lean against a game stall just to rest, even if for only a minute.

“Pat, you coming?” Tord asked from nearby, wiping blood off the stock of his gun. Patryck nodded and stood back up, walking over to the Norwegian.

“You know, we could rest if you need to.” He offered, gesturing to a nearby bench. The shorter man shook his head no.

“Thank you sir, but I don’t want to hold us behind just because my back hurts a bit…” The Pilot said, but his leader shook his head and sighed. 

“Sit. That’s an order soldier.” Tord pointed to the clean bench, Patryck giving up and sitting down, feeling his infants squirm around. He moaned softly as another contradiction rolled through his abdomen, Tord cocking an eyebrow in response.

”Hey guys.” Paul chimed in, taking a seat next to his boyfriend. Soaking up the tense mood, he frowned. “Is everything all right?”

Patryck groaned, getting up to his feet. “I think it’s time...My back won’t stop hurting.”

The two taller men’s eyes widened, Tord standing up and wrapping an arm around his friend. 

“Well then, let’s try to get to somewhere more private and not out in the open. Has your water broke yet?” Tord asked, looking around and noticing the empty arcade building up ahead. Patryck shook his head, and placed his hands under his bump to support it.

"No, but there's lot of pressure...Gah!" Patryck suddenly gasped as, coincidentally, his water broke.

"Oh. Uh, well there's that." Paul said, pointing to the puddle of amniotic fluid on the concrete. Patryck glared at him.

"Well! Don't stare at it!" Patryck said, blushing profusely. Did he ever stop blushing?

The three made their way over to the arcade, Tord supporting the Pole and Paul taking care of any zombies nearby. By the time they got there, Patryck was loudly moaning in pain and clutching the blonde’s arm. 

“Oh Boże!” The Polish man groaned, being lead into a storage closet. 

Tord and Paul got to work making a makeshift birthing area, putting some towels down and finding a first-aid kit under a box of wires from presumably old or broken arcade machines. Helping the laboring male get his boots, socks, pants and undergarments off, they also placed his coat to the side. Patryck whined as he got onto his back, spreading his legs apart.

“Alright Patryck, push when you’re ready.” Tord said softly, but confidently.

Patryck squeezed Paul’s hand as he started to push, the head of his firstborn starting to move closer to his entrance. The pressure was the most intense part, and the fact he had a low pain tolerance wouldn’t help either.

“Just push with the contractions and breathe. It’s very important that you breathe Patryck.” Tord told him, gently rubbing his inner thigh. 

Patryck pushed again, and screamed as the head started to crown, stretching him further than he could even imagine he’d go.

“Oh God, why me?!” The pilot cried. Paul rubbed his back gently to help bring him some comfort through this whole ordeal. 

The pilot moaned loudly as the head of the newborn popped out, and despite the blood and God-knows-what fluid, Tord could see the baby had blonde hair. 

“Uhh....Paul? Did you have blonde hair as a baby?” Tord asked, fearing the worst for their relationship.

“Huh? Oh, yes. My dad did too. Patryck’s dad is a dark blonde also.” The Dutchman said, stroking Patryck’s hair.

“Oh, yes, I see. Anyway the head is out Patryck.” The communist leader said, shedding his coat to cup under the head. Patryck responded with a gasp as the shoulders started to pass through, his grip on Paul’s hand tightening.

“Oh FUCK!” He hissed, as the infant started to squirm and stretch him out as they quickly left the warmth and safety of his ‘mother’. 

“It’s a boy!” Tord proudly said, cutting the cord. 

“Wha...I have a son….” Paul whispered, smiling. “Patryck we have a son!” 

And now they had two sons and one daughter. Patryck was tiredly laying his head on Paul’s shoulder as he held the three infants. The Pole couldn’t believe how...Small they were. They were like glass, and he silently swore he wouldn’t let anything happen to them. I mean, it’s scary. You’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse (which you started), hid inside an arcade closet and gave birth.

But hey, arcades are for kids.

  
  



End file.
